Film Review
Although ill-received when it was first released and then soon
forgotten, this unusual B-movie has come to be regarded as one of the
earliest examples of film noir. It has many - but by no means all
- of the stylistic and thematic motifs of the classic film noir, yet
stylistically it is closer to German expressionist cinema of the late
1920s than to what most audiences would recognise as a typical American
film noir. This is most apparent in the stunningly realised dream
sequence, which calls to mind a similar sequence from Fritz Lang's
Dr. Mabuse, der Spieler (1922).
Stranger on the Third Floor
was directed by Latvian émigré Boris Ingster, who made
just two other films and who is perhaps best known as the producer of
the classic TV spy series
The Man
from U.N.C.L.E. (1967-68). The striking art direction was
by Van Nest Polgase, whose next commission would be Orson Welles'
Citizen Kane. Cinematographer
Nicolas Musuraca would subsequently work on some of the greatest film
noirs -
The Spiral Staircase
(1945) and
Out of the Past (1942), as well
as the memorable expressionist thriller
Cat
People (1942).
The film's soulless urban setting and the plot involving an innocent
man caught up in a deadly web of intrigue are recognisable film noir
ingredients, but more striking are the other noir elements - the harsh
lighting, extreme use of shadows, oblique camera angles, flashbacks and
voiceover narration. This heavy stylisation can appear
clunky and a tad theatrical, but it does have the effect of conveying
the intense psychological crisis in which the hero finds himself as a
destructive guilt complex takes him over.
Where
Stranger on the Third Floor
is strongest is the way in which it introduces and sustains the
ambiguity over the identity of the killer. For most of the time
we are left wondering whether the seemingly genial reporter Ward is the
killer - a psychopath who for some reason cannot recall his murderous
acts. Most of the performances are mannered and theatrical, the
one notable exception being that of Peter Lorre. In a role that
reminds us of his character in Fritz Lang's
M, Lorre manages to be both
frightening and sympathetic as the mysterious stranger in the white
scarf, skilfully portraying a man who is both villain and victim, but
with a crooked smile that will freeze the blood of the most fearless
spectator.
Whilst it may lack subtlety, the film manages to deliver an effective
indictment of the American legal system and society's casual
indifference to injustice. No one seems to care if an innocent
man is wrongly convicted and sent to the electric chair except the man
whose evidence condemns him. The whole burden of guilt
falls on the witness; the others - judge, jury, lawyers - are merely
the cogs in an unfeeling legal machine whose sole purpose is to
dispassionately deliver and execute textbook justice.
Equally disturbing is the way in which people with mental disorders are
treated. Peter Lorre's character may be the stuff of nightmares
but it is hard not to be moved by his pleas not to be "sent back
there". The State apparently has just two solutions for
dealing with his kind: bang them up or fry them.
© James Travers 2008
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.
Film Synopsis
Reporter Michael Ward is the key witness in a murder trial. At
first, he has no qualms about testifying against the man who is accused
of murdering a popular café owner. But when the man is
convicted and sentenced to death, Ward has second thoughts. As he
returns alone to his cramped lodgings, he is assailed by guilty
thoughts. He falls asleep and in a horrific nightmare he imagines
himself tried and condemned for killing his next door neighbour.
When he awakes, he discovers that his neighbour is dead, his throat cut
just like the café owner's. Ward recalls seeing a strange
man earlier that evening, a man in a white scarf loitering in the
apartment block. Could this man be the murderer, or did he -
Michael Ward - perform the two killings, in a moment of mental
aberration...?
© James Travers
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.